


eifersucht ist eine leidenschaft

by betweenclouds



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Beca and Jesse are together, Chloe and Stacie are playful english-majored bffs, F/F, if you squint there could be some Chloe/Aubrey, some not-so-serious Stacie/Chloe, sort of one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenclouds/pseuds/betweenclouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>chloe deals with her feelings in the aftermath of finals, stacie finds out chloe has feelings for beca, beca thinks stacie and chloe are dating and acts weirdly, and stacie thinks they should pretend they are even as she tries to woo cynthia rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eifersucht ist eine leidenschaft

 

  
**eifersucht ist eine leidenschaft:** _jealousy is a passion_

* * *

 

She was thrilled when the post-nationals get together ended; happy that she no longer had to put up the charade of true, genuine joy. She had tried her hardest to appear her normal, chipper self – laughing alongside the others at Amy’s quirky one liners, smiling encouragingly whenever she caught Cynthia Rose staring at Stacie with an unnaturally soft expression, throwing amused smiles whenever Lily whipped out her own barely audible comments, winking when she locked onto how she and Donald looked at each other.

The one thing she couldn’t face, the one thing she knew would give her away, was the curling in the pit of her stomach whenever she saw Beca snuggling up with Jesse. So she did everything she could to avoid looking at them – and the scarily understanding and sad looks Aubrey kept pushing in her direction.

She was the last to leave the restaurant; the habit of stacking all of the plates and bowls neatly, putting the trash all on one area, and moving everything into groups at the most convenient end of the table was ingrained into her from three years of working her mother’s diner. Numerous offers to help or, at the very least, wait for her from her friends were politely declined so that she could have the little bit of space she so desired. She allowed her face to finally reflect her sombre spirit as she worked, letting herself relax now that she was no longer in the presence of friends – not in _her_ presence, nor Aubrey’s. She shrugged on her jacket after she finished and walked slowly to the door, too far in her thoughts of the hurt in her heart to notice Stacie hovering outside.

“Thought so,” she said almost smugly – almost, because there lay in her words an undercurrent of a sad victory.

“Stacie!” Chloe spun to face her in surprise, trying to school her expression back to anything remotely joyful.

“You’re totally sad!”

Chloe whipped her head around frantically, searching to make sure none of the other Bellas or Treblemakers were around.

“I’m so not!” She denied vehemently.

“Oh, honey, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but I totally recognise that look.” Stacie looked at her expectantly, much like how she had looked at Beca when they were trying to get her to sing on the bus.

The thought of her shot a pang through Chloe’s heart. She could feel her charade attempts crumbling down around her and knew that her walls would soon fall – and possibly bringing along tears as an undeniable aftermath. Frantically, she grabbed Stacie’s wrist and pulled her to a less crowded area – her car.

“I don’t have a look,” Chloe muttered once she deposited her unwanted companion by the driver’s side door.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” Stacie retorted, rolling her eyes. Chloe was momentarily terrified that Stacie would continue to push, but she thankfully pressed forward in a different direction. “But can I get a ride? Cynthia Rose was mine, and I told her to go ahead without me so that I could talk to you.”

Knowing she couldn’t exactly deny the request, Chloe nodded slightly and climbed into the vehicle, and Stacie walked over to the other side and did the same. 

They managed to go most of the way without saying a word, trading talking for silence that would have been stifling if not for the college radio station filtering through the air.

“I live in the dorm across from Baker Hall.”

“What?” Chloe asked confusedly, shocked by the unprecedented interruption to the regular musings she fell into as she drove.

“Baker Hall – I live across from it. You know where Baker is, right?”

Stacie used a tone that suggested she already knew the answer, so she didn’t bother responding. She definitely didn’t say that _of course_ she knew where that particular hall was – Beca lived there. 

They drove in a companionable silence for a few minutes after that, until one of Beca’s mixes started playing through the vehicle's speakers. Chloe promptly turned it off and gripped the steering wheel tight enough to make her knuckles white.

“Is it – ”

“How are you and Cynthia Rose? Has she finally asked you out?” Chloe forced her words out over Stacie’s, too worried about her apparent melancholy to care about being uncouth. She could practically feel the _Really, Chloe?_ look on her passenger’s face.

“No, she hasn’t,” Stacie finally replied. After another moment of silence, she finally broke and began the tirade Chloe was sure would have occurred sooner under less tense circumstances. “She better soon, though. I mean, he really _is_ a hunter; if she doesn’t do it soon, he’ll look for some prey.” A beat. “And he hasn’t had any _meat_ in _ages_.”

Chloe grimaced at the metaphor, and though her cynical curiosity flared at “in ages” (don’t get her wrong, she loved the girl, but it was _Stacie_ ; how long could it have really been?), she kept her mouth shut on that subject.

A beat of silence and an idea flared into her mind.

“Do you think that she’s scared to?” She inquired.

“What do you mean? Like she’s scared that she’ll get friend zoned or whatever?” Stacie didn’t give her nearly enough time to respond. “I flirt with her all of the time! She has to know that she has no chance of being denied,” she continued incredulously.

Before she could add more, Chloe butted in.

“You’re her best friend; I doubt she wants to risk the friendship she has with you.” She paused and took her eyes off of the road to throw a playful wink. “And you _did_ blow the rape whistle at her.”

Stacie flicked her wrist dismissively. “That was, like, last year or something. And besides, the _flirting_ – I’m pretty blatant about it.”

Wisely, Chloe decided not to comment that it was barely three months ago, as opposed to the year previous. She did, however, smile briefly at the hidden English major in Stacie peeking its head out.

“But Stace, you’re kind of flirty with everyone,” she mentioned as she pulled her car into a parking space.

“Whatever do you mean?” Stacie catechised, placing a hand above her left breast in mock hurt.

Chloe felt a smile stretch her lips and Stacie looked pleased that she had made that genuinely happy look appear.

“You’re a character, Stace.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They got out of the vehicle – dubbed Mister Rochester by Stacie earlier in the year – and met at the trunk. Chloe had decided to drop by Beca’s room, though she knew it wasn’t the most intelligent decision. She had to see her, to see if that ache in her chest would subside if they were together with no one else – especially _him_ – around. She unlocked her trunk and dug through it to find her excuse for the visit: a jacket left in her vehicle the week prior. Stacie linked their arms and bumped their hips together playfully before continuing their conversation.

“So, you’re going to help me get the catch that is our Montague, right?”

Chloe paused in her confusion. “Montague?”

“Yeah, you know! Act 2, Scene 2? ‘That which we call a rose…’ used by Juliet during her soliloquy on how unfortunate Romeo being a Montague of all things was.”

“Nerd,” the senior teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased back sweetly.

“So I assume that the ‘rose’ is a not-so-subtle reference to Cynthia Rose?”

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Stacie winked at her.

“Alright, I’m in.” Chloe grinned up at her tall teammate. Beca could wait. She was probably with Jesse or at his place, anyway.

She swallowed past the bile in her throat at the thought and accepted the squealing Stacie’s hug.

 

* * *

 

They lay side-by-side on Stacie’s small bed, Beca’s jacket underneath Chloe’s head, both in quiet contemplation. They had tossed around ideas until one o’clock, when they had realised the time and decided the planning session would just have to become a sleepover. 

Chloe’s mind was warring with her heart, one wishing to think on Beca and the other not wanting to be attacked by the feelings it would bring. The unlikely victor in such battles, her brain assaulted her with images of her apparently unrequited love. 

She wasn’t sure how it had happened, really. One moment she was locking eyes with her in a shower stall while making a perfect rendition of David Guetta, and the next she was pulling the brunette toward her, feeling her breath, seeing her wink, and suddenly dying to kiss her. She had struggled with control, but managed to pull away when it became too hard, citing a need for ‘jiggle juice’. The following wiggle and slap on her butt was to satiate the impromptu desire for Beca to look at her body. And when she saw Jesse back to flirting with the petite girl, Chloe rebelled against the jealousy and latched her mouth onto a random boy passing by her – she had enough sense to make sure he wasn’t a Treblemaker first. The next morning, she had forced herself to believe that the sick feeling that slowed her movements as she got dressed and walked back to her and Aubrey’s apartment off campus was from her hangover (she chose not to point out that she hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol to blame it on that.)

She tried to resist her attraction to Beca, she really had, but the opposite was ingrained in her. Chloe had always been touchy feely, the sort of girl that was confident in her sexuality and out there; whenever she found someone that she liked or found attractive and neither of them were in a relationship, she had always gone for it. Sometime she asked that person out, but most of the time she dropped hints in the form of subtle touches and flirtatious looks and tones. In her freshman year of college, her flirting somehow became more of a seduction - resulting in her ending up in beds or secluded make out spots more often than restaurants.

Beca was a different story. Beca was the kind of person Chloe had always wanted to find – gorgeous, musically talented (her excitement upon hearing her voice was nothing compared to how she felt when she learned Beca mixed music), witty, and confident enough to stand up for herself and her ideas. While she was essentially Chloe’s ideal significant other, Beca put stop signs in between them: her constant butting heads with Aubrey, her never-ending barriers, her dislike of being touched – though that was a wall Chloe bulldozed rather quickly. She didn’t care how she was some alt girl with ear monstrosities and a bad attitude, but Aubrey did, and Chloe couldn’t bring herself to go behind her best friend whose opinion meant so much to her.

Aubrey didn’t know everything about Beca, though. Aubrey couldn’t know how Beca’s brow furrowed in her sleep, how she sometimes woke up in the middle of the night with a mix idea and stayed up the rest of it to work on it (most likely the reason behind Kimmy Jin's distate toward her). Chloe’s best friend wasn’t aware of how tiny Beca looked with no make up and wearing the oversized flannel in which she slept. She had no idea that she was the best cuddle partner, but wasn’t the biggest fan of spooning, that she had a passion for cooking and often brought Chloe bits of meals she made, that she always picked up something for Chloe from Starbucks – and thus had her order memorised – when she stopped by, that her favourite flower was the strelitzia because she thought the story behind it was romantic and hated the rose because it was too hallmark related. It wasn’t obvious that Beca liked to go to sleep early so that she could get up in the wee hours of the morning, when no one else was likely to be awake, that she enjoyed taking showers at four in the morning (the redhead had learned of that last part before they were even on a name basis).

Chloe wondered if Jesse was aware of these things.

She wondered if Jesse knew that Beca ate a clementine at three o’clock everyday if she didn’t lose track of time, that she loved breakfast and ate such a big one that she rarely ate lunch. She pondered about whether he knew that Beca had once volunteered at an animal shelter, where she met a dog named Grasshopper that suffered from epilepsy, and that she got a tattoo on her wrist to remember him when he died. Did he know that Beca’s favourite holiday was New Year’s because it meant a new start and that she forgave everyone who wronged her every New Year’s because of that, except for her father because it had hit her too hard?

Part of her wished he didn’t, that Chloe was the only one trusted with this information, but the rest of her hoped that he did so that he could be the best boyfriend for the girl that deserved everything.

“Who is it, the person that broke your heart?” Stacie’s voice shattered the silence with a question that squeezed at Chloe’s quintessence and twisted it violently.

Chloe considered opening her mouth and telling her, spilling her pains and explaining everything, but something screamed not to, that it was too fresh and that, for some reason, she wanted to keep it all a secret. Her heart yelled that it was no one else’s business but hers, just like every other business of love. 

“The look on your face is definitely heart break, babe. I’ve seen it enough to know,” the tall girl beside her continued after a moment, her voice soft and a little soothing. “Do I know the lucky, yet daft person?”

Chloe gulped. “Sometimes I don’t even think I know her.” She rolled over onto her side, too stuck in melancholy to notice the pronoun or the small, incisive breath Stacie pulled in at it.

 

* * *

 

She awoke the next morning to the sounds of rummaging. She reached beside her, but was only met with the feeling of cooling sheets beneath her fingers. She groaned internally at being denied her morning cuddles, something both Aubrey and Beca had been subjected to at times (her one night stands, on the other hand hadn’t; she’d always walk back to her dorm, shower, and then pull a grudging Aubrey toward her and a bed).

“Stace?” She croaked out, rolling over to face the originator of the sound. The rummaging stopped and was replaced by quiet steps. Chloe felt hands on her face, brushing away the hair that covered her eyes. 

“Hey, sweetie. Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find my favourite pair of shorts,” she whispered to her groggy friend.

Chloe blinked at her, confused. Was this how Stacie always was in the morning, or was she just being coddled because her theory of heartache had been confirmed? She sat up.

“Why?” She finally asked. She caught sight of the clock and groaned. “Six o’clock, Stace?” Unlike apparently everyone else she cared about, Chloe was hardly an early riser. She was a part of the demographic that didn’t go to sleep until the sun was beginning to shine, and considered any time before twelve in the afternoon dreadfully early.

“Yeah, sorry, babe. I always wake up this early to go for a run.”

Chloe ran her fingers through her tangled curls and debated her options. She said and looked up, overlooking the almost completely bare body that met her eyes. “Would you like any company?”

 

Stacie paused in the middle of putting a leg into her shorts. “Really? You want to come?” She squealed when it was confirmed and jumped up and down a little, nearly falling over. Chloe ignored the bouncing breasts.

 

* * *

 

Chloe and Stacie collapsed on the grass laughing, both trying to catch their breaths. Chloe reached over and slapped Stacie on the stomach, prompting some more giggles.

“I totally beat you!” Chloe crowed around gasps.

“You had an unfair advantage!” Stacie shot back. She heard a playfully incisive inhalation and chortled. “You did! You didn’t have to hold your breasts down to cease their abuse to your face!”

Chloe guffawed and rolled over, climbing on top of her friend and tickling her. “What happened to the numerous sports bras you are wearing to ‘stop them from flopping about’?” She yelled over shrieks.

Stacie was laughing too hard to answer, hands flying around helplessly until they connected with Chloe’s sides, which prompted a full out war. The redhead felt lighter than she had since before their nationals win; it was the most she had laughed in what felt like ages.

“Now that just looks like way too much cardio,” an Aussie called out over the laughter.

Both of the playful aggressors ceased and looked over at Amy.

“Hey there, _Patty_ ,” Chloe teased. Stacie giggled underneath her.

“Ew, no,” Amy protested.

Snickers were heard, causing Amy to roll her eyes at the duo’s antics. Stacie began to poke viciously at Chloe’s sides, making her shriek. The battle resumed until she grabbed Stacie’s hands and pinned them against the grass above her head. They stared at each other, mouths open with gasps, smiles curving the corners of their lips up.

“Here I was thinking that Knockers would end up with Black Beauty, but apparently I had to worry about Little Red Riding Hood all along. Geesh, I really miscalculated the amount of lady lovers in the group.”

Chloe turned her head, ready to inform Amy just how wrong she was, but froze. Stacie slid her wrists out from Chloe’s hands and wrapped them around the woman’s neck, preparing to give Amy a lascivious wink, but stopped when she felt how tense the neck beneath her hands was.

“Then again, I can’t be blamed for just how gay this group surprisingly is. I mean, there are probably five people that aren’t straight in the Bellas. While I’m really open to anything, I’m definitely _not_ included into that, because I’m more open to anything when it comes to food, not people and – “Amy continued, completely oblivious.

“Chloe?” Stacie asked quietly, a little worried. What had happened? Amy had just made one of her quips, but nothing to warrant such a reaction. Right? Was it the subject? Was Chloe upset that someone had figured out (though Stacie really considered that Fat Amy was joking) that she wasn’t heterosexual? Or, Stacie worried, was it she who Chloe had been saying broke her heart? ‘ _No,_ ’ she reasoned. ‘ _She was perfectly fine last night and even helped me plan a date for Cynthia Rose. She didn’t act heartbroken at all until she was left to her own thoughts._ ’

Finally, Stacie followed the gaze of the girl still on top of her. At first she saw only Amy (who had actually stopped talking and looked rather confused), but her gaze slid past her to see Beca walking down the path with two coffee cups in her hand. Cogs slowly began to turn.

“Short, dark, and deadly!” Fat Amy called out. Apparently she had seen her, too.

A portion of Stacie hoped Beca wouldn’t hear – for Chloe’s sake, if her theory were correct. But of course her thoughts weren’t received by anyone (except perhaps a mischievous Aphrodite) because Beca turned to see who was calling. Stacie didn’t even bother to wonder how she knew she was the one being called such terms.

The moment Beca started walking toward them, Chloe jumped up and back, trying to fix her wrinkled shirt and partially skewed shorts. Stacie watched her, waiting for eye contact. When it was finally made, Chloe’s hands brushing away stray strands, Stacie raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Chloe seemed to deflate a little, her shoulders slumping, and she nodded imperceptibly.

Stacie stood up, ignoring the shirt bunched up by her breasts in favour of pulling Chloe into a hug. She didn’t pay attention to Fat Amy’s odd look, and she kept her arms tight through Beca’s greeting (she didn’t extend one back, but Chloe did). Stacie couldn’t help but be a little furious – at herself, for missing all this and at Beca for hurting Chloe in the first place, though she may have not known; but being unaware didn’t make anything better in Stacie’s eyes, because she had always seen Beca and Chloe as really close, almost like a modern day Rosencrantz and Guildenstern without the stupidity and death, so there should have been a realisation that something was different, if not the cause.

Chloe carefully detached herself from the tall girl and looked solidly at the ground, not meeting anyone’s eyes. There was a pang in her heart when she noticed Beca hadn’t offered the second cup of coffee in her hand. The fact that it was probably for Jesse only made things worse. Stacie, in all her wonderful perception, swooped one of the cups from the grasp of the girl in front of them and Amy, with an excited glint in her eyes that no one wanted to question, took the other. Beca protested the blatant thievery, but the smile on her face negated it.

Stacie took a drink and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, it’s hazelnut.” She passed the cup to Chloe, who merely stared at it – hazelnut coffee with two sugars was her order, but she couldn’t bring herself to hope, to think about what it could mean through rose coloured glasses.

A glance toward Amy showed her basically chugging the drink in her hand. 

“Fat Amy!” Beca squealed, looking a little appalled and upset.

“Man, that was hazelnut, too! Does Jesse drink this girly stuff to help get man boobs like Bumper?” Amy asked when she came up for air.

Beca laughed, and Chloe couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face at its sound.

“No, they’re for me,” she corrected, smiling.

Beca and Chloe made eye contact for the first time, a weak smile and a raised eyebrow that read ‘Hazelnut? Your order is café au lait,’ on the redhead’s end. Beca flushed slightly and answered the unheard question aloud.

“I didn’t get much very much sleep last night.” She chewed her lip and began to look somewhat bashful. “And hazelnut coffee calms me down and helps me concentrate.”

Chloe couldn’t handle all the implications of that, so she looked away and over at Stacie. She laughed quietly at the still somewhat ridden up shirt and various blades of grass and twigs in her hair.

“Here, Stace.” She reached over to assist her friend, pulling her shirt down and attempting to remove the debris. She allowed her hands to brush down Stacie’s smooth torso and to play almost flirtatiously with her hair. When she got to the front, posterior to Beca, she made sure the tall brunette’s hair was in working order. She twirled the strands around her face. Stacie winked at her, obviously aware of what she was doing, even if Chloe herself wasn’t entirely positive. Chloe flushed.  

Beca cleared her throat, looking a little uncomfortable as she eyed the pair. “Well, I have to go and apparently do another coffee run if I want to make it through the day.” She looked pointedly at Amy, who had two empty cups on the ground next to her – Chloe had been wondering what happened to the cup that magically disappeared from her hands. “I’ll see you nerds later.”

“Yeah, I’m going to leave these to ladies to their loving. Fat Amy out,” Amy proclaimed, throwing up a random sign with her hands and walking away.

Beca seemed to hesitate a moment before scooping up the empty cups, turning on her heel, and catching up with the retreating figure.

Chloe stepped back from the only other person left with a huff, her eyes planted firmly toward the ground.

“Hey, babe,” Stacie began, tilting Chloe’s head up. She paid no attention to the voice that told her the act was to see Beca’s reaction, since she kept looking back at them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I – “

“I do, and it’s okay.” She smiled down at the redhead. “Ready to head back to the room? Race you!” Stacie took off, leaving a bewildered Chloe in her wake. 

“Hey, not fair!” She yelled after her with a laugh. She gave chase, refusing to lose.

 

 

* * *

 

Stacie lay in her bed, mind whirling. Chloe had left a while ago, claiming that she had to get back to the apartment before Aubrey began to worry. It was a Sunday, so she had no classes, though she did have an essay on John Donne and his holy sonnets to start. But she knew that she couldn’t concentrate on that, not just yet, not while Chloe and her hidden pain was still at the forefront of her mind.

Gosh, that poor girl – _woman_ , she amended herself. Chloe had been dealing with those feelings for who knew how long, and maybe even by herself. Did anyone know that Chloe liked Beca, possibly loved her? Did _Aubrey_ know? Stacie hadn’t missed the reactions the tall blonde had whenever Beca and Chloe were in close proximity, but she had never been able to pinpoint what emotions were behind those.  She had heard from Chloe on numerous occasions that Aubrey had been different than her previous self since the Bellas had begun that year – even a little before, but that was when it had gotten worse. Was the change because Aubrey was suddenly a senior and captain of the Bellas and she couldn’t handle the stress? Was she so hard on everyone, especially Beca, because she was yearning for perfection and redemption from the previous year’s fiasco? Maybe Beca’s “crazy alt girl ideas” were what caused Aubrey’s control freak nature to rear its head, or maybe Beca –

A chirp from her mobile interrupted the thoughts running through her mind. She slowly rolled over and grabbed her phone as it chirped once more.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. She pulled up the two new texts awaiting her.

 **Chloe Beale:** _Do it TONIGHT! xx_

 **Montague:** _Dinner 2nite @ 6?_

Her fingers flew in a flurry to type out a reply to Cynthia Rose – _Yes, absolutely. Can I come over a little early? There’s something I need to say_ – and one to Chloe – _Already meeting up with her tonight to talk about it. I’m a little nervous. Wish me luck? oo_.

She laid back down, mobile clutched in her hand, heart beating quickly. Was she ready to tell Cynthia Rose that she liked her, to sing her a cheesy song, and give her flowers? Was that really a good plan? It seemed foolish now that she wasn’t exhausted from being awake for twenty hours.

Her heard a chirp and brought the offending device into her field of vision.

_Luck, sweetie! Though we both know that you don’t need it :* xx_

As she finished reading Chloe’s reply, she got a new message, this one from Beca.

_Are you free tonight? Can we meet up and talk?_

Stacie frowned. _Sorry, I have a date._ She sent it before she could think about the ball in her stomach. Let Beca think what she will. 

 

* * *

 

Stacie looked with confusion at the coffee cup that had been roughly put down on her table in the dining hall.

“Was that really necessary?” She asked, not looking up, too busy noting the liquid that had sloshed out and landed precariously close to her newest Robert Frost anthology. She scooped up some napkins to clean up the mess, muttering a bit about the lack of civility people possessed nowadays. It ended with a phrase that sounded suspiciously like “ducking glass mole.”

“Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to be a creep and stand there?” She inquired, annoyed. She threw the wet napkins onto her empty plate and looked up. She blinked in shock. “ _Beca_?” Of all the people standing there, she would have never guessed the small alto.

“Can we talk?” Her voice was oddly hoarse.

Stacie waved her hand toward the empty side of the booth across from her in acceptance. “Be my guest.” She used the time it took for Beca to sit down to scrutinise the girl’s appearance. Her shoulders were tense and settled, her mouth turned down harshly. There were bags under her eyes, her makeup smudged a little, and her ponytail was in a greater state of disarray than it normally was. She looked like she hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, and what she had were restless, uncomfortable, and short lived naps.

They sat in silence for a while, Stacie staring at Beca with an eyebrow cocked, Beca returning the gaze to the coffee cup. Impatience was beginning to gnaw at a rope in the taller brunette, but Beca finally spoke before it could snap.

“How was your date last night?”

Stacie felt her eyebrows raise and then furrow on their own accord. _Really_? That’s what she was so tense about? What was so big about her date with – _‘Oh.’_ Realisation relaxed her features. Beca probably thought her date was with _Chloe_. Guilt struggled to make itself known, but she covered it up with heavy-duty resolve. She had to know Beca’s feelings toward Chloe, for her sanity if not the redhead’s.

“It was… good,” she said at last. “Great, really.” A smile grew on her lips at the thought of Cynthia Rose before she could stop it. Her face became serious again when she took notice of the teeth attacking Beca’s lip.

“Did she…” Beca licked her lips and looked away. “Did you guys stay out late?”

“Er, yeah. We were out until merely midnight.” Stacie wondered if maybe not saying names would make it feel less like lying.

Beca ducked her head down so that she couldn’t see her expression. The guilt began to rattle at its cage doors.

“Beca, are you alright? Does my relationship with – “

“Oh, gosh, look at the time!” Beca interrupted frantically. “I have to go relive my parents’ divorce!”

She was gone before Stacie could wonder what she meant.

She watched as little Beca five-foot-even Mitchell nearly bowled over a group of kids with too much food in their hands. They scattered to make way for her, but a somewhat annoyed female forced to walk slowly behind them didn’t have enough time to do the same.

Chloe hit the ground, dropping her phone in favour of catching herself on the floor, ignoring the obscenely loud _boom_ that accompanied her fall. She muttered an expletive, a small pout on her face.

“Oh, sorry!” She heard yelled out. She swivelled her head around to look behind her at the figure still rushing away. As the culprit darted out the door, Chloe narrowed her eyes.

“Was that _Beca_?”

“Indeed,” a voice above her confirmed.

Chloe looked up to see a hand being offered, as well as a charming smile. She grabbed the limb and pulled herself up, pausing only to scoop up her mobile before linking arms with Stacie. “Thanks Stace,” she said cheerfully. “So what was that about?”

“What was what about?” She asked distractedly, steering the redhead over to her table and then proceeding to clear all of her loose papers and books off of it to give them both room.

“Why was Beca in such a hurry just now? I think she just barely noticed she knocked someone over,” Chloe clarified, sitting down.

“Oh, that.” Stacie looked down. There was pesky feeling of guilt worming its way up again.

“Stacie, what did you say to her?” Her voice was a little harsh, tinged with worry.

“Nothing!” She denied quickly, but then slouched in defeat at the look thrown her way. She sighed and swallowed. “She may – “ She shut her eyes. “She may think my date last night was with you, not Cynthia Rose.” She said her words in such a rush that it took Chloe a minute to decipher their meaning.

“What?” She squeaked out.

“And I think, with that paired with the tickle session and everything from yesterday, she thinks that you and I are… dating. I have no proof, but it’s a hunch.”

Chloe froze for a split moment before she started grabbing the stuff she had just put down - as well as some of Stacie's own things in her haste. “I – I – I have to go and – and fix this!” She was so flustered that she was stuttering.

“Wait, Chlo! Chlo!” Stacie yelped out frantically. She stood and forced Chloe back down, sliding into her side of the booth to ensure that she couldn’t leave.

“No, Stace! I have to – ”

“Chloe!” Stacie grabbed Chloe’s face between her hands, trying to calm her down enough to tell her an idea, but she just kept struggling. Stacie tried not to be hurt at how upset Chloe was at the idea of them dating by reminded herself that that wasn’t why she was upset, but rather _who_ thought it. It all came down to Beca. She wondered how she had missed it all before yesterday.

Chloe was still trying to get over and away from Stacie. She had never seen the redhead in such a state, and she had no idea how to calm her down. Affection had always helped Stacie, and Chloe breathed touch almost as much as she did, so maybe being extremely tactile would work. Yet, it was far too cramped in the booth for a full hug. Running out of ideas other ideas, Stacie brought her face to Chloe’s for a kiss and refused to pull back until she felt her relax into it, not even when a wolf whistle or two split the air.

“Now, sweetie,” she muttered, leaning her forehead against Chloe’s. “I need you to listen to me for a moment because I have this really stupid, crazy, harebrained idea with which I really think you should go along.”

Chloe pulled away with a sigh and crossed her arms. She looked at the table, but nodded.

“I think – ” Stacie swallowed and hoped for the best. She would hate if this scheme somehow wrecked their extremely close and relaxed friendship. “I think we should pretend to date.”

Chloe didn’t appear terribly surprised by the notion; her reaction was merely to return her gaze to Stacie’s with a raised eyebrow and to blink.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, not saying a word. Stacie furrowed her eyebrows and studied Chloe’s expression to figure out what she was thinking, but the older woman’s face was so uncharacteristically blank that it unnerved her.

Finally, the silence broke.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Chloe said quietly.

Stacie nodded in acceptance – what else could she do? Chloe had a right to ponder it for as long as she needed; she would have to keep up the charade as much as Stacie, so she should be sure. If anything, she should be _more_ so.

But that didn’t stop Stacie from trying, just in case.

“Okay. It’s just –”

“Don’t tell me your reasons,” Chloe muttered. “I have to figure out the pros and cons for myself. If I decide that I don’t want to, then you can try to change my mind, but don’t bring it up until then. Okay?” The hurting, confused look in her eyes made it impossible for Stacie to say no. For the first time, the silence between the two was awkward. Stacie searched for some sort of conversation starter, something to rid them of the heaviness in the air. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be a multi-chaptered fic, but after weeks of no motivation, I sort of just shelved it. I enjoyed the premise, though, and thought I would post it for kicks and to see if anyone thought I should maybe revisit it. There are two other scenes, small ones that I think are less than a thousand words each that I wrote to go with this story but could stand alone, that I may post at a later date.


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